


When We Fall Apart

by BlueLioness728



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Hunk (Voltron), Dissociation, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I think Lotor deserved better, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lotor is a bad guy, M/M, Multi, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Lance (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Torture, Vomiting, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLioness728/pseuds/BlueLioness728
Summary: Lance keeps getting into trouble. He keeps getting hurt and it seems like nothing the others do are helping this fact. As much as they try, what happens when the worst case scenario possible happens and Lance gets captured?Will Haggar get her hands on Lance? Will Zarkon mold him into something he's not? Or will Lance take Shiro's Galran-given title and fight in the gladiatorial arena? Or will he come out mostly unscathed?Read and find out my lovelies:Suggestions are taken into consideration and updates will be random as college likes to bury its students in homework and I enjoy procrastinating.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	1. Bad Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT CONTEXT:
> 
> Wingfic with A/B/O dynamics. Babies and small children to age 13 are called chicks as they are very dependent, from 13 to 16 they are called fledglings as they are in the major growth stage, but don’t have flight abilities. Once they gain flight abilities, they may also be tested for their A/B/O dynamic. Humans have the ability to chirp and trill to communicate to flock members or show affection through communication (depends on the context it is used). Flocks will often fly in seemingly choreographed manners to show affection and companionship. Courtship is more like other A/B/O fics that contain courting. Heats and ruts do not exist in the traditional means. During these, omegas affected by heats will be vulnerable, but will be sick and let off a sweet scent to attract an alpha or beta to care for them. On the other hand, ruts make alphas more aggressive towards one another, but not lusty, and only omegas can truly calm them, but betas have some affect as well. BOTH CAN BE PLATONIC. Alteans and Galrans follow canon; thus, Allura and Coran do not have wings or A/B/O dynamics, but the paladins still look up to them as leaders just like Shiro. Will not contain NSFW content thus any genitalia that coincides with Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics will not be discussed unless it is highly requested. And to finish this terribly long note off: female pronouns for Pidge.

Lance is a trouble magnet; Hunk could have told them that. After landing himself in the cryopods for the millionth time in the past movement, Lance was the talk of the dinner table. While the other paladins ranted and raved over their resident blue paladin’s reckless decisions that rivaled Keith’s, Hunk was deep in thought; he was nauseous with the feeling that something bad was going to happen. His wings fluttered anxiously. Of course, while Hunk could be wrong, his intuition was normally spot on and he couldn’t help but wonder what was causing these tumultuous thoughts. He simply sighed and shoved the rest of his food goo into his mouth and, after disposing of his plate, meandered to the medbay, worried sick about the near future. The medbay felt like a mile long walk while his thoughts fought with him: was Lance going to get hurt, was he going to get captured, what if he loses his memories in the cryopod because it messes up its analysis of his bodily functions and overcorrects?!

Hunk took a deep breath and, after the longest five minute walk of his life, opened the door to the medbay, only to see his buddy suspended and frozen in the clear tubes. Hunk sat on one of the few prepping cots in the sterile room and let out another sighed, this time of relief as the cryopod timer said Lance would be out in a matter of minutes. His thoughts over the last battle rampaged through his mind, reminding him of why Lance was even in one of these contraptions in the first place. 

Lance wasn’t actually messing around during a battle for once. After a stern talking to by both Shiro and Allura (at the same time might he add) and the cold shoulder from Keith he seemed to be more focused, but he was also less focused. It was odd. He followed every order like an obedient soldier, but his shots were off and his movements were sluggish. Something was wrong with him, but before Hunk could have the chance to ask Lance if he was okay, a Galran fighter dive bombed into Blue. While the lions don’t have Earth-like seat belts, they did have one that simply went over the pilots abdomen horizontally. No one knows whether or not Lance had simply not buckled it or if it was ripped out of its buckle, but Lance had flown out of his seat and into the console in front of him, rendering him unconscious. Luckily, the battle had ended fairly quickly and Lance was okay according to Coran’s outward observations. His wings were fine and nothing seemed broken. The cryopod said he had a mild concussion but that was all. Some harm, but minimal foul. 

While Hunk was stuck in his thoughts, the cryopod gave out a hiss and opened its glass doors. A dreary looking Lance stumbled out and Hunk jumped off the bed to help the omega stabilize himself. Lance looked around the room with tired, clouded eyes before groaning and laying his head in Hunk’s chest. Hunk let out a slow breath of air and picked Lance up like he weighed nothing. He turned and set Lance on the bed, who was already passed out, more than likely from exhaustion, with his wings sprawled over both sides of the bed. Hunk let out a chuckle and ran his fingers through Lance’s feathers gently.

The rest of the crew, seemingly done with dinner, walked in. With a quick “hush” from Hunk, they were all silent and surrounding Lance’s temporary bed. Pidge sat next to Hunk and stared at Lance. 

“Is he okay?” Pidge whispered.

Hunk simply nodded and continued massaging Lance’s wings. Allura and Coran moved to analyze the pod’s results as Shiro moved to sit on Lance’s other side. Keith stood silently in the corner of the medbay and glared at Lance’s sleeping form. Shiro sent Keith a warning glance and started to shake Lance awake. Lance stirred for a moment before shifting and sitting up, wings following the movements and resting on the bed behind him.

“Wha-?” Lance yawned and looked over to Shiro.

“Coran has to check your head to make sure the pods healed everything.” Pidge stated.

Lance huffed and rubbed his eyes, before moving to the edge of the cot and looking over at Coran. 

After administering all the required tests and giving Lance a clean bill of health, Hunk followed Lance out of the medbay and to his room. 

“You sure you’re okay man,” Hunk asked.

“Yeah, man. Still tired, but I can catch up on my beauty sleep tonight.” Lance replied, a small, cheeky smile appeared on his face, “But of course, I always look beautiful.” Lance shot Hunk his signature wink and chuckled.

Hunk rolled his eyes and smiled back. “Yeah, yeah Lance. You’re gorgeous. Now get some actual sleep before Keith comes in to fight with you over this whole mess.”

Lance grumbled, saying something about Keith being a “stupid mullet-head” and walked through his bedroom door, shutting it behind himself. 

Hunk let out an exasperated huff and shook his head, smiling all the while. As he made his way to the kitchen to clean up, the bad feeling seemed to loom ever closer.

~

Lance shut his bedroom door behind himself and groaned loudly after a moment, making sure Hunk had walked away from his door. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, his wings opening to its maximum length, touching from wall to wall in the twelve by fourteen foot room. Letting his wings retract to his back he looked down at his nest. It was simple, no exuberant colors or fluffy blankets or pillows. Everything in the castle was so colorless and the materials weren’t comfortable at all. Lance chirped solemnly as he thought about the nest his familia made in their living room for all of them. His niece and nephew, Nadia and Sylvio, were just chicks when he’d last seen them, spent almost all their time in that nest, soaking up the attention of all the older family members in the nearby area. 

See family was generally a huge thing. Flocks also weren’t just made of blood members. Lance considered the paladins his flock. Once someone becomes old enough to fly, they will instinctively search for their own flock, and Lance has already found his. While the paladins haven’t flown together to see if they are all compatible as a flock, as an omega, Lance holds a sense of affection for them all anyways. Lance looks to his nest with a sad sense of nostalgia and smiles warmly. He turns down the lights in his room and practically jumps into his nest, pretending it was soft and fluffy instead of rough on his wings. He folded his wings to his back gently and curled into a ball, making the lanky boy seem much smaller and more vulnerable. He smiled gently, remembering his mom comforting him and cuddling with his niece and nephew and hearing the loving chirps of his family, but Lance had an inkling of feeling that something bad was coming, something that will destroy his flock from the inside out.


	2. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go back to chapter 1 and read the notes if you have not already.

Getting up for training in the mornings was always rough. The only other person who seemed to have an issue with having training this early was Pidge because she always stayed up and hated being interrupted during her programming. Lance huffed as his alarm went off and slowly pushed himself out of the bed. His wings dragged on the ground as he stumbled into the bathroom to get ready for whatever Allura had in store for them. Lance stumbled out of the bathroom and let out a weak trill. His body began to feel as though it was on fire. Lance shuffled down the hall and into the training deck where his teammates were. Once he entered the room, all eyes shot to him. Shiro walked over to him and put his flesh hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey Lance, I think your heat might be starting soon.” Shiro murmured to Lance with worried eyes, Shiro’s jet black wings curling around Lance, shielding him from the other paladins’ gazes.

Lance sighed and pulled Shiro’s hand off of his shoulder; Shiro could feel the heat resonate off of Lance’s hand. “I know, but it’s not too close to be an issue.”

Shiro nodded in affirmation and smiled, “Just let me know if you need a break, I’d be happy to let you simply observe.” He pulled his large wings back to himself.

Lance sent him a small smile back and took a seat on the gymnastic mats lying on the floor with the other three paladins. Shiro looked up to where Allura and Coran were residing in the observation deck of the training room and sent them a thumbs up. 

“Okay paladins, today we’re going to be-”

Lance had tuned him out, more focused on trying not to let his nausea get the best of him. He rested his chin in his hands and stared into space, seemingly paying attention. After a while, Hunk, who was right next to him, elbowed his side. Lance jolted up after being dragged out of his thoughts, wings flaring defensively, and looked over to Hunk. Hunk eyed him worriedly and soothed Lance’s wings with his own. 

“Buddy, are you doing alright? You were spacing out.” Hunk whispered, still trying to watch as Shiro demonstrated and explained what they were going to be doing.

Lance opened his mouth to reply, but the castle alarms cut him off. Wings fluffed to max capacity, all five paladins rushed out of the training room to their lions and Allura yelled from the speakers. Lance’s head pounded and he stumbled, falling behind the others. He let out a deep breath and ran to his lion. The others had beaten him out there and were busy with small clusters of fighters when Lance joined the fray. His body felt like a furnace and even Blue’s cooling thoughts and calming waves of encouragement didn’t help the flames. 

Lance’s focus had gone out the window and he was taking hit after hit. Eventually, he had lost sight of the other paladins and didn’t notice the cruiser approaching. Finally, Lance had seemingly snapped back to full awareness once he realized he was surrounded. Lance opened the comms and attempted to radio the other paladins, only to receive static. Lance cursed to himself and started putting all his energy into fighting back. A bright light shined on Lance’s helmet, blinding him and he watched in horror as a beam of light traveled in his direction. Lance let out one last helpless scream as the ion beam hit the Blue Lion.

~

The feeling in Hunk’s stomach increased tenfold. All of the lions were out there fighting, but eventually, he had lost sight of Shiro, Keith and Lance. He opened his communication link to try and talk to Pidge, who was still within his sights, only to receive static. Hunk groaned and moved closer to the Green Lion, trying to get Pidge’s attention. Luckily, Pidge was seemingly able to open a short distance link as her face appeared on Yellow’s monitor.

“Pidge I can’t see the others! We’re being overwhelmed!” 

“I know Hunk! I saw Keith and Shiro fighting with each other not long ago, but I haven’t seen Lance.” Pidge replied, slightly panicked, “And that battle cruiser is charging its ion cannon. The castle can only take so many hits from that stupid thing!”

Pidge was clearly frustrated and Hunk sighed, slamming into a huge group of fighters. Suddenly, the Red and Black lions rammed through a large crowd of the galran army and Pidge was able to connect them to the short distance link.

“Has anyone seen Lance?” Shiro looked directly at Hunk.

Hunk shook his head, “I haven’t seen him since the start of the battle, but I’m worried. The commlinks are being blocked.”

Keith looked frustrated. “Are you kidding me?! Where the hell is he-”

“Wait, wait! Look guys,” Pidge pointed out the front of her lion, “the ion cannon is shifting directions!”

Hunk met Shiro’s gaze, “You don’t think…”

Shiro grimaced, “We have to find him.”

The four paladins fought tooth and nail, searching for the missing blue lion. Unable to locate him, they watched on in horror as the ion cannon struck something out of sight. As the fighter pilots surrounded them with a barrage of merciless attacks, the four paladins continued their relentless struggle, only to watch as the Blue Lion is sucked up into the galran cruiser. A wormhole is opened and the cruiser seems to disappear in only a matter of moments, taking Lance with it. The lions give chase, only to have the wormhole close. Hunk stares in shock as the lions finish the last of the fighters and return to the castle ship. The crew is silent, despair heavy in the air, their bodies heavy with grief. 

They meet in the debriefing room. Everything is silent, only broken when Keith picks up one of the tables on the table and throws it at the wall behind him, letting out a string of explicatives along the way. That seems to break everyone out of their heads. Hunk begins to sob, the realization of his best friend’s capture finally sinking in. Pidge bows her head, letting Hunk envelop her in a hug and silently letting tears roll down her face. Allura and Coran rush into the room, looking around the room. Shiro looks up at the two alteans, shaking his head solemnly and placing it back into his hands. 

Allura gives everyone a moment to grieve before interrupting them. “We’ll get him back. We the Blue-”

“Don’t you dare say Blue Lion like Lance doesn’t matter.” Hunk growls at the woman, “My best friend was just stolen by your 10,000 year old enemy and for you to be concerned about the Blue Lion is heartless.” Hunk gives Allura a deadly glare and Keith comes back over to the table.

“We’ll find him Hunk,” Keith states through grit teeth, wings flared with aggression, “if it is the last goddamn thing I do.”

Shiro’s head shoots up like he has just remembered something.

“Guys, you’re not going to like this,” He starts with a hushed, but grave tone, “Lance was starting his heat, and without a flock with him-”

Hunk’s eyes widened, “Oh no…”

~

Lance groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His body felt like lead and his head throbbed. He could feel himself being dragged, but couldn’t make out any details. Eventually, he felt himself being picked up and put on a table. Too weak to fight back he simply watched as a syringe was put up to his face. He felt a sharp prick in his head, right behind his ear, only able to inhale sharply. Finally, the pounding in his skull had taken over, and all he saw was darkness.

It didn’t seem to take long for Lance to regain consciousness. He opened his eyes yet again to find himself in a cage, hovering above the ground. His wings were tied to his back with some sort of leather belt and his arms were chained to the top of the cage. It looked like a typical bird cage with a rounded top and flat base, its cylindrical walls seeming to close in on Lance. He gulped, his body starting to shake with the fear of what was coming as his heat grew nearer and nearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! Leave comments and suggestions and take a guess at how Lance is going to handle in galran captivity since his heat in on the way.
> 
> Remember: ALL SUGGESTIONS ARE CONSIDERED!!!! 
> 
> This is also my very first story or fanfic that I am making public so advice is always appreciated. Please be patient with me as I get writer's block and lose motivation easily, but I plan on finishing this.
> 
> As always, see you next time lovelies <3


	3. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, part of the torture kind of begins here. If you are sensitive to this be wary when reading.

The fire surrounded him, his wings struggled against the restraints and he let out desperate trills. His body flailed weakly as the heat engulfed his body and mind. He let out one last weak cry before letting his body fall limp, panting heavily as he looked to the ten foot drop below his bird cage. Finally, as if answering his calls, three galran soldiers walked into the dark room. A light switch was flipped and the room was suddenly too bright. He let out a quiet chirp as the galrans lowered his cage. Suddenly, he was falling, his stomach flipping; he hit the ground, his right shoulder popping from the pressure. Lance grit his teeth in pain and watched the galrans like a hawk.

The galrans surrounded his cage before the largest of the three kicked his cage, pushing it to the ground. All three galrans laughed before opening his cage. Lance boded his time and as soon as the restraints around his wrists were off, he shoves his foot into the nearest galrans chest. He flailed wildly, managing to throw himself outside of the cage and tried to bolt on unsteady legs. He made it a good ten feet before a hand grabbed him by the hair, yanking him back. Lance let out a pained yelp and tried to flair his wings, only succeeding in jostling his injured shoulder. Lance let out a low moan of pain as the galran threw him to the ground.

“Well, well, well. Looks like our paladin decided he could get away.” The galrans all chuckled, “How about we entertain ourselves?”

“Sir, remember we can’t kill him. That witch wants him alive,” One spoke up. Lance almost let out a sigh of relief, but was stopped when the galra holding him down spoke once again.

“I am aware of this lieutenant, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun ourselves. Now, grab me that syringe.”

The lieutenant saluted and ran over to a table near the wall. Lance took this time to look at his surroundings. The room was seemingly empty, no cages or other prisoners could be seen. On a second glance though, he noticed other floating cages, all at different heights, suspended in pure darkness. Straining his ears, he could hear the low moans and cries of other prisoners that he hadn’t noticed before. Guilt flooded his system as he realized his cries were drowning out the pained cries of the other prisoners.

The lieutenant comes back into Lance’s sight and pushes his head into the hard floor, holding him still. He lets out a squeak of surprise as a sharp sting was felt in his neck. It only takes a couple of minutes, seeming like hours, for the serum they had injected to cause his muscles to lose all strength. He let out a low chirp and grit his teeth as his body protested when his captors lifted his body and carried him out of the room. His skin felt tingly and the heat didn’t go away. They appeared at a door and threw Lance in once it was opened. The belt around his wings was cut, but before he could lash out, the door was shut behind Lance, leaving him in pure darkness. Lance lifted his wings as much as he could, only able to open them a good two feet on each end. 

He lifted one up, hitting the ceiling of the room after only four feet. 

“Great,” Lance mumbled, “I can’t move.”

A full body shiver ran down Lance’s body as the cold air hit his feverish body. The room was even smaller than the cage he was in. His wings went to cover his body, noticing how his armor was missing and he was left in the flimsy black flight suit. His head began throbbing painfully once again and nausea bubbled in his stomach. After what felt like days, his heat finally hit full force as vomit covered the floor of his two foot wide by four foot tall cell. The lack of light was starting to get to Lance. 

It was one of the few times he could sleep with his numb body and cramped wings when the door slid open. The light from the doorway revealed a disheveled Lance, pupils blown wide and shivers racking his heat riddled body. The tremors shaking Lance’s body and the drug that was injected into his body prevent him from fighting back. A large galran enters the room, presumably the same one who was in charge of the others from the cage room. With the small amount of light in the room Lance could see a smirk on his captor’s face. Fear pulsed in Lance’s chest.

“Now that you can’t fight back,” the galran’s smirk widened, “I suppose I’ll have my way with you.”

The galran lunged. 

~

Shiro was pacing. While Pidge and Hunk worked on locating the galran ship that had taken Lance, Allura was trying to work on battle plans. Shiro wasn’t sure what he should do. He knows how important it is that the team be prepared for the upcoming battles and not to get distracted, but Shiro knows better than anyone on this ship what the galra are capable of doing to their prisoners. That thought however, didn’t quell his fears. He knew Lance was strong, but it was the fact that he was forced to fight in the arena as a simple prisoner. Lance was a paladin of Voltron, the sworn enemy of the galra, so who knows what they would do to Lance if given the free reign to experiment. 

Shiro gripped his hair with his human hand, a habit he had picked up to pull him out of thoughts that would generally cause him to panic. He looked at his galran arm and made a fist. He felt a spike of anger in him over the thought of Lance enduring what he had to. In Shiro’s case, the new arm was actually helpful in his case and he felt nothing but disgusted thankfulness when thinking of this gift since he no longer had to deal with the thought of his muscles degenerating and his impending death. However, in Lance’s case, it would be purely based on whatever the galra wanted to test. Lance would be their new guinea pig, and that thought alone brought bile up Shiro’s throat. Shiro was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Keith approach him. A gasp left Shiro, jet black wings flaring, as he felt a hand wrap around his bicep, only to see Keith looking up at him in concern, Keith’s own white and brown speckled wings fluttering in distress. 

“Hey you okay Shiro?” Keith’s worried tone reached Shiro and he felt guilty for worrying the younger male.

Shiro nodded and answered with a simple, “Worried about Lance.”

Keith looked visibly uncomfortable as he thought about how to reply to Shiro. “Me too. I don’t know what to do with myself because I can’t help them find him, but I refuse to help Allura with her stupid battle tactics.”

Shiro felt the irony of the situation flowing through him. Of course, both males that secretly wanted their flock mate back more than anyone, were stuck making the impossible decision to either help Allura or watch as Pidge and Hunk flew through strategy after strategy on how to get their best friend back. Shiro let out a sad chuckle.

“I understand, Keith.”

Keith simply looked more frustrated with himself before plopping on the floor of the lounge room they were occupying. Shiro sat on the couch behind Keith and ran his human hand through Keith’s thick hair. Keith let out a light chirp, eyes closing as he finally relaxed for the first time in ages. Shiro opened his wings to their full capacity, letting them rest on the edges of the couch. Shiro let his eyes flutter closed and finally let himself relax, praying that wherever Lance was, he wasn’t going through hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyy look at me! Three chapters posted in two days? 
> 
> Remember: This is the first story I have EVER posted to the public, it is not beta read and I DO CONSIDER OTHER IDEAS!!!!
> 
> What do you think the galran is going to do to Lance? Why are Shiro and Keith so secretive about their affection for Lance? What will happen if or when the team gets him back?
> 
> Comment below any thoughts, ideas or advice!   
> Bye lovlies <3


	4. Tracked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand its out. Blasted through and this chapter is now the longest with 1,504 words. Yay! Enjoy. 
> 
> Note: Tags have been updated, implied rape and dissociation. Please be mindful reading.

Nothingness continued to surround Lance. His wings stayed forever pinned to his back in fear as his body quivered at the mere thought of the large galra. His heat, which had started seemingly weeks ago, lasted only a couple of hours before his body shut down. He felt nothing but cold, his body numb and his mind lost. Remnants of the galra remained untouched on the shredded black suit. Lance shivered, disgusted with himself. Tears marred his face and as much as Lance tried to get them to stop, no amount of teeth gritting was stopping the sobs coming out of his mouth. His mind continued to wander, from his family, the paladins, his lion… The galra. Lance jolts. Where was he again? The darkness around him gave no hints.

Lance felt a hand on his shoulder; he let out a shriek. His wings and hands whipped around wildly, trying to fight off the touch. After realizing the touch was gone, Lance finally calmed down. Lance curled into himself further, dragging his wings off of the walls and to his body, shielding him from any further touch. He was so stuck in his head that he didn’t hear the voice.

“Paladin.”

Lance jolted. He looked around the room, but all there was, was darkness. 

“Paladin.”

Lance frantically looked around, curling in further and shoving himself to the furthest corner of the tiny room. Hands grabbed the tips of his wings, he flared his wings, trying to free himself. The hands trailed up hi6+s wings and arms before clutching his face as a scream left his lips.

“Mijo.” 

Lance froze, panting heavily. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. The voice repeated itself.

“Mijo. Mijo, estás bien.” 

Tears ran down Lance’s face, “Mamá?”

The hands felt familiar. The touch of his mother’s rough working hands felt all too comfortable. Lance unfolded his wings and allowed himself to relax in his mother’s hands and leaned his face left, nuzzling the touch. He let out a small chirp followed by low trills of affection, knowing his mother was there for him. 

“Mijo, you must wake up.”

“What do you mean?” Lance replied, frantic.

“Wake up mijo.” The voice of his mother turned into a whisper. Eventually the hands on his face disappeared and Lance leapt out of his corner to capture his mother in his arms. Once he realized she was gone, he began to panic. Chirps of anguish and shrieks left him, unbidden. Lance wrapped his arms around himself and began to scream endlessly. Scratching at his arms and pulling his hair, Lance continued screaming his throat raw. His wings had tensed, digging themselves in different corners of the cage, trying to push the looming walls away from himself. The room was closing in and someone had turned off the ventilation. 

He could suddenly feel something touching him. Memories of the galra flashed through his head, trapping him in some sort of horrific slideshow, giving him a play by play of the unwanted touches and the pain. Lance thrashed back and forth trying to free himself from the unknown person’s grasp, only succeeding in making the touch grip him further. Only once a small beam of light had entered the room did Lance start to focus on something other than the unseeing darkness surrounding him and the past events that had taken place there. After opening the door fully, light engulfing the room and forcing Lance to squint, did he see the outline of a tall, slim figure. The figure slowly lowered itself to Lance’s kneeled height and moved his hand. Lance watched warily as it moved to his face. Lance let out a pitiful whine and tried to move his face away weakly. The hands were soft and comforting, and Lance could just barely see the outline of a comforting smile on the stranger’s face. 

“Don’t worry little one,” The voice spoke, their voice low and soft with an accent much like Coran and Allura’s, “I will take care of you now.”

~

Pidge grit her teeth as the results showed up blank yet again. Not one ship she had managed to ping had _any_ files on human prisoners or experiments. She had tried just about everything in her power to track that stupid ship, but with how similar the set up of each galran cruiser is, it is basically impossible to track one accurately. 

She looked to Hunk, who was currently stirring a pot full of something that wasn’t food goo, and as much as she loved his cookies-that were thankfully not made with skaltrite now-there were only so many she could eat. A frown pasted itself onto her face as she watched Hunk basically go through the motions of making dinner. She could tell he was deep in thought, but at this juncture, that was a dangerous place for his brain to be. Pidge huffed before closing her computer a little harder than necessary. It seemed to snap Hunk out of it as he turned to her slowly.

“Something wrong, Pidge?” Hunk asked, clearly still distracted but not enough to worry about those still in front of him. 

“I can’t ping that stupid ship! No matter what sort of coding I use or walls I break, there’s just no information on human prisoners, let alone files for a paladin of Voltron other than Shiro!” Pidge groaned and smacked the table with an open palm. 

“I’m sure there’s something we can do.”

“Well without that stupid princess’s magic there’s no way to track Blue, plus even if she could track the lion, who says that the galra haven’t already disabled her tracking or blocked her quintessence!” 

“Maybe we’ll just have to convince Allura to join our search?” Hunk asked, clearly not believing the words he had spoken in the first place. 

“That’s it!” Pidge exclaimed, the light reappearing in her eyes. She quickly reopened her computer and began typing at her usual rapid pace. 

“Asking Allura?” 

“No! I don’t want her help,” Pidge spat, “I’ll look for files on Blue! Zarkon’s goal is to get the lions, and even if he truly wants the black lion, having one lion of Voltron still makes him closer to his goal! There has to be something on Blue!” Pidge explained.

“That’s a great idea Pidge, but I don’t want you getting your hopes up. What if-”

“Got it!” Pidge interrupted Hunk. 

She turned her laptop around for Hunk to see, showing him the once encrypted message. The message stated that the glara had possession of one of the five lions and they were on their way to a meeting point in the Xalarian system.

“They even gave exact coordinates to the meet-up location!” Pidge exclaimed. 

Hunk stood in disbelief. It had only been four days since Lance’s capture, but it was four days too many. It finally sunk in that they were going to get their omega back. Hunk let out a quiet chirp and engulfed Pidge in a hug. Loud sobs made their way out of Hunk and, while she would never say anything, Pidge let a few tears of her own slip. 

Pidge couldn’t help but think of their past at the Garrison. The three of them had been their own flock. Lance, being the one that kept them all together, was their leader while Hunk was his second. Pidge, since she isn’t old enough to have a second gender, was treated almost like Lance’s own child. Granted, when an omega was in charge of a flock, anyone who was unable to have their second gender identified, let alone fly, were treated like their own children. She remembered Lance forcing her into cuddle sessions and dragging her into team bonding, which became flock bonding. Even though Pidge couldn’t fly yet, Lance always made sure that she never felt left out. Pidge remembers spreading her wings as Lance took off with her on his back, just so she could feel the wind through her smoky gray wings. 

She remembered when they rescued Shiro, Lance having carried her miles on his back, and still had enough energy to carry an alpha that stood a good bit taller than him. She remembered them reaching the castle on Arus and eavesdropping once everyone was settled on a conversation between Lance and Shiro. She remembered Lance asking Shiro if it was okay to consider him and Keith as part of the flock, even giving up his own leader position in favor of allowing Shiro to take control. She remembered feeling disappointed and even betrayed for a moment, before remembering that Shiro outranked and outaged them all, which could cause turmoil if the two potential flock leaders ever butted heads. Lance selflessly gave up his head position to help strengthen their flock, without hesitation.

Finally, she remembered the feeling of utter despair, watching helplessly as Blue got shot out of the sky. Now it was Pidge’s turn to save him. It was Pidge’s turn to save their flock and to save their flock brother, no matter what it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's the chapter that was supposed to be out yesterday, but instead was out super late today. Oops! Oh well.
> 
> Who is with Lance? Why is Lance's mother there? How long will it take for the paladins to finally be able to come up with a solid plan and rescue their flock brother? Stay tuned, and most, if not all, will be answered.


	5. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ooooone! Yay!
> 
> Ratings will go up in this as it includes more direct torture and more graphic violence.

Lance awoke to the feeling of warm fingers running through his outstretched wings, massaging the muscles and joints in them. Lance practically purrs under the other’s ministrations but instead lets out a small chirp of thanks. Then, everything came back to Lance at once; the cage, the large galran, the darkness. The hands running through Lance’s feathers moved away from him as if sensing his fear. Lance snapped his wings to his back and started trembling, unable to see who this person was.

“Paladin, you are okay.”

Lance let out a harsh, panicked cry, letting this person know he was not at all pleased with this scenario.

“Calm,” The low voice repeated. Lance’s trembling started to slow and he spoke again, “I will not hurt you little blue.”

The person next to him grabs Lance by the armpits and helps roll him onto his back and sit up so he doesn’t crush his wings. Lance’s head snaps up, eyes dilated wildly. The man in front of him had purple skin, but it was odd. He had human-like skin, despite clearly being galra. The galra’s hands moved slowly and Lance shrieked as the hands cupped his cheeks.

“Little blue, calm,” The man repeated, “I will not hurt you.”

“Who are you?! What do you want from me?!” Lance interrogated.

“I want to help you. Zarkon and Haggar are going to be arriving on this ship once we enter the Xalarian system and transfer you onto their prison ship. You will end up fighting in the arena daily and be tortured by the druids unless I can prevent that. All I need from you, is to agree to be my pet.”

Lance practically hissed at the idea of being this galra’s pet. He glared at the galran in front of him and scowled.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because if Zarkon gets his hand on any of the paladins and their lion, this war is over and he’s won!” The man growls, acting like this fact was obvious.

“Why would you want him to lose?! You are a galra!” Lance spat back.

“Because that man has taken everything from me, and I want revenge.”

Lance was stunned into silence. He watched the man’s hands leave his face as the man got off the bed and began to pace. Lance watched as his face became more and more scrunched, anger taking over any neutral expression he once had. The man turned suddenly and looked back at Lance. Lance’s wings crushed themselves against his back, fear creeping up Lance’s spine. Lance tucked his feet underneath himself and started to think about his possibilities. Lance realized that he didn’t have many, and even if this galra did backstab him, it would be no worse of a situation than he is in now.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘okay,’” Lance repeated, “I’ll be your pet.”

The other man looked surprised, before smirking. “Wonderful. Now, you can call me Lotor.”

Lance nodded and let his wings fall from his back, still suspicious of the man in front of him. The man held out the same hand that was once stroking his wings and holding his face with a gentle touch, yet Lance still eyed it like it was going to burn him. Eventually, Lance held out his own hand and placed it in Lotor’s. After being pulled off the bed, Lotor dragged him down several corridors and into yet another bedroom, one even more luxurious than he’d seen in his entire life. With black satin sheets and a purple glow to the room, much like in the castle ship, with dark purple walls. It was quite dark in the room, but Lance could tell how comfortable this man lived simply by the room he was taken into.

“This is my room, though I’m sure you’ve realized this. This is where you’ll be staying.”

Lance glared at his feet and nodded, knowing he truly had no say in the matter.

“We will be meeting with Zarkon and his witch in a little over two quintants. Be prepared, as if you act out, Zarkon will not hesitate to throw you into the arena.”

Lance gulped and nodded.

“Now, I will train you. Do come across as being obedient to me, we will have hand signals for certain things.”

“Oh _hell_ no!” Lance blurted out, “I will not be some dog to come to your every beck and call!”

Lotor’s eyes went cold and he lunged forward, faster than Lance’s eyes could keep track of. Lance yelped as Lotor grabbed a fist full of brown hair and shoved Lance to his knees. Lotor yanked Lance’s head back, forcing Lance to look Lotor directly in the eyes..

“Remember, paladin, I will protect you as long as you obey me. Make your choice.” The words came out low and threatening, the underlying meaning of Lance being handed over to Zarkon caused the Latino to freeze. His omega instincts were clawing at him, it felt like his chest was being shredded from the inside out. His omega wanted to submit, his omega wanted a flock, and he had no other options. Lotor released his grip from Lance’s hair and Lance immediately bowed his head, giving in to his omegan instinct’s wants and just let himself submit. Lance let out a soft chirp, something between an apology and affection, but felt shame bubble in his gut for chirping happily at someone who was not his flock: his omega demanded it.

Lotor moves back and sits on the bed. Lance follows his movements without saying a word, watching warily as the other man observed Lance once again. Lotor’s neutral expression gradually turned into a smirk and he used his index finger to motion for Lance to approach, but as soon as Lance got to his feet, Lotor cleared his throat, motioning for Lance to get back on the floor and _crawl_. Shame fully flooded Lance’s body as he got on his hands and knees, wings squeezed together and eyes downcast from embarrassment. He finally made it in front of Lotor’s bed and sat on his feet. Lotor grabbed Lance’s chin and moved his face side to side, as if getting yet another close-up of Lance, trying to find some detail he hadn’t noticed before.

Suddenly, Lotor stood and moved past Lance, to a wardrobe behind him. Lotor grabbed a handful of items, including clothing, and walked back to his place on the bed. He purposefully laid out a pair of handcuffs that looked like shock collars on the bed in the open. Lance watched him as he grabbed the belts.

“These will be for your wings. You will not be allowed to open them in public as it would be taken as a challenge of authority. Your wings make you look more intimidating, thus you are not allowed to display them.”

Lance struggled as Lotor shoved Lance over, straddling him. The sound of something shredding echoed in the room and goosebumps rose on Lance’s back as it was exposed. A shriek left Lance’s mouth as his left wing was grabbed. It was forced closed but pulled away from his back as one of the belts, that also seemingly had the capability to shock Lance, was wrapped around the delicate appendage. As much as Lance struggled and fought, he couldn’t free his wing from Lotor’s bruising grip. Eventually, Lance landed a good hit on Lotor with his good wing, but this only seemed to make the man angry. Lotor shoved Lance’s head to the floor, hard enough to make him dizzy, and gripped the other wing.

The wing was pulled and pulled and _pulled_ until there was a sickening pop and Lance’s cries could be heard from his original holding cell. The now mangled wing was dislocated from the socket in his back and was more than likely broken on the outer bone, past the joints. Lance flapped the wing in a panic, only able to get weak movements before it too, was also restrained. Against Lance’s will, tears built up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

“Don’t fight it little blue, I can’t let you disobey me or they’ll think I’m weak and take you from me.” Lotor began to run his hands through Lance's hair yet again. Lance flinched, believing his hair was going to be pulled, only to relax and chirp as the only comfort came from the hand. His omegan side was taking over as he felt the overwhelming need to obey Lotor. Lance’s brain felt muddled, on one hand, he felt fear race down his spine and pain throb from his wing socket; on the other hand, Lance could feel the comfort and affection warm his body, knowing his omega was craving the affection since it only got torture and aggression during Lance’s heat. Lotor took his hand out of Lance’s hair and pulled him up, Lance’s omega letting out a cry of displeasure as his wing was jolted and his only means of comfort was taken away. Lance looked up and saw Lotor’s gentle smile and Lance couldn’t help but smile back. All of a sudden, Lance snapped out of his submissive mindset and growled at Lotor.

“Now I would stop that if I were you,” Lotor warned, “All you’re doing is making this more difficult for yourself, little blue.” Lotor pulled Lance onto the bed next to Lotor and laid him down on it. Lotor pulled a blanket up from the end of the bed and tucked Lance in. “We will begin your training in the morning instead. Maybe the darkness will help you realize I’m only trying to help. Now, get some rest.”

Lotor walked out, turning off the light and shutting the door, leaving Lance in pure darkness to let his demons consume him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will now fully explain heats and ruts since it is now relevant and I would rather not write an info dump in the story:
> 
> Heats and ruts are different from normal A/B/O stories. Heats and ruts are a time when the secondary gender of a character becomes more prominent and demands more attention and comfort from a flock. If either of these were to be compromised via rape, torture or isolation (to name a few things) the secondary gender will eventually take over and cause said person to go feral, basically living off of their secondary instincts. In Lance's case, his omega is getting restless and Lance can only fight off so many people for so long.


	6. Ripped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: graphic violence, mutilation, vomit
> 
> This one is rough guys.
> 
> Rating may go up again. For any concerns or questions, email me at awkwardandanxious8@gmail.com

Lance followed Lotor through the halls, head bowed and arms properly clasped behind him, held together with cuffs. He could hear the whispers and snickers of the soldiers they pass, knowing that this subdued pet is really a paladin of Voltron. Lotor and Lance stopped at a set of double doors, hundreds of voices murmuring excitedly behind the door. Lotor opened the door and all Lance could see with his downward gaze was dirt floors and rocks. Lotor grabbed Lance by his hair and yanked his head up. It took Lance a second to realize where he was: the _arena_. Fear shoved its way through Lance’s chest, his heart beating twice as fast as normal. Lotor let go of Lance’s hair and grabbed him by his arm and dragged him to the middle of the arena, a lone wooden post in the center. Lotor stopped and faced Lance before turning his gaze to the crowd around him.

“Today we get ahead of those filthy Voltron paladins! For not only have I captured one, but have tamed him!” The crowd roars. 

Lotor looks back down at Lance and smirks, not that Lance could see with his gaze still downcast. Lotor grabbed Lance by the back of his prison garb and threw him to the ground. Lance shrieked and the crowd cheered louder. Lotor approached slowly and ominously, making a show out of the display. Lance felt the fear in his chest expand as Lotor lifted his military boots. The black leather shoes kicked Lance back to the ground by his head. Lotor continued to put pressure on Lance’s head. Lance watched out of the corner of his eye as Lotor grabbed something from his pocket. While he couldn’t make out what it was, he had the feeling he would find out soon. Lotor’s boot moved to the middle of Lance’s back and grabbed him by the hair again, pulling him into a very painful upward dog pose. 

Lance could feel Lotor’s other hand caressing him, making a show out of the paladin he had in his clutches. The item Lotor had grabbed was laid on Lance’s back. Lance could feel the unforgiving weight of the object before it was taken off his back. Suddenly, Lotor let go of his hair and as Lance fell back to the floor, something leather was wrapped around his neck. He could feel cold, metal prongs digging into his adam’s apple. Lance was barely held up, hovering over the ground by whatever was choking him. He heard the tell tale snap of something being put together and his muddled brain managed to put the pieces together. This was a shock collar, and the belts on his wings also had the ability to punish him on command.

“We will be reaching the Xalarian belt in a matter of ticks, and when we do, I will present this dog to my father and prove my abilities to him once and for all!” Lotor’s crowd shrieked in excitement, only to be covered up by the sound of emergency alarms.

Lotor tsked and quickly grabbed Lance, dragging him to the cells behind the arena. The very holding cells that prisoners facing their doom would stay in. Lotor shut the door and bolted out of the area. Lance tried to struggle out of his restraints, noting how he got nowhere in a matter of ticks. Lance’s omega was furious at the mistreatment, Lance’s eyes going between their normal blue and pure black as Lance fought his omega for dominance over his body. Eventually, his omega won out and began ramming itself against the door of the cell. Eventually, the door gave way and Lance fell into the hallway. He ran the opposite direction of Lotor, praying the alarm was a counter attack and not some sort of weird galran fire drill. 

Lance’s omega ran quickly, but quietly down the deserted halls of the galran ship. He was able to move the handcuffs in front of himself and growled at them. He ran to one of the walls and smashed his hands on the walls over and over and over, until he heard a crack. Lance’s omega cried out in frustration and pain as his wrist went limp. He continued beating his hand on the wall until one of the cuffs shattered, freeing his hands. Lance continued his mad sprint through the ship, occasionally running into a glaran soldier and _disposing of them_ quickly. Lance turned a corner and ran into hard metal. He shrieked furiously and flailed wildly. 

Hands grabbed his own and someone chirped at him. Lance’s omega snapped out of their rampage and looked up, finding Keith chirping at him, trying to calm his omega. Lance’s omega immediately trilled happily at the sight of a trustable alpha and allowed Keith to pull him along. Keith and Lance made their way through the semi empty halls and to the hangar area where the Blue Lion was being held. Lance chirped excitedly and almost ran ahead of Keith. He turned one final corner and ran into yet another person. Thinking it was another paladin, Lance chirped again, only to have Keith pull him off of the person he fell on top of. Keith drew his bayard and got into a defensive stance. Lance finally noticed that he had run directly into the person he had been avoiding from the start: Lotor. Keith slowly pushed Lance behind him and took several steps backwards, shoving Lance into the hangar.

Keith lunged at Lotor and the two began exchanging blows. Lance began running to the Blue Lion, frantically trying to find some way of defending Keith. As Lance turned to watch the fight, Keith struck Lotor with the butt of his blade, knocking the air out of Lotor and causing him to collapse to catch his breath. Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and pulled him to the Blue Lion while they had the chance. Blue let down her particle barrier and allowed the two in. 

Suddenly, Lance felt like his body was on fire as volts of electricity consumed his being. He let go of Keith’s hand and fell to the floor, letting out a scream. Keith turned and ran towards Lance, stooping down to pick Lance up and carry him. Lance watched from the corner of his eye as Lotor got to his feet again and began running towards the pair. Lance looked to Blue and silently pleaded with her to help them. Lance pushed and pushed to get Blue to wake up. Lotor reached the two and pulled Lance away from Keith by his collar. Keith immediately attacked, but stopped short as Lotor put a blade up to Lance’s neck after turning off the shock collar.

“Don’t move Red One,” Lotor smirked, Lance could feel it on his neck as Lotor buried his face into Lance’s shoulder, “You must know that I don’t need this one alive to cripple Voltron, so I could kill him here and now and you would still lose.”

Keith visibly stiffened, frantically looking for a way to save himself and Lance. The blade was tightened against Lance’s throat and Lance could feel his blood start to run down his neck, but Keith didn’t budge. Lance could see that Keith was trying to call Lotor’s bluff, but at this rate he was going to end up severely injured. He reached out to Blue one more time, trying to get her to activate, but he felt nothing in return. Something was wrong with his connection to Blue, but he sent her his message anyways.

Even though he couldn’t hear the Blue Lion, she activated, roaring from behind Keith. Lance sent Keith a sad smile and chirped at him, sending his regards and love to the teen in one small sound and watched as the Blue Lion picked Keith up and flew off with him. Lance could see Keith trying to escape, his eyes covered in a watery film. Lance’s lion disappeared from his sight and Lance let his own tears fall, listening as the alarms in the ship quieted and so did the space outside. Lance was thrown to the ground once more and watched as Lotor’s boot made harsh contact with his face: once, twice and then all he saw was black.

~

The Blue Lion landed in the castle and Keith watched as all the other paladins ran into the hanger, tears of joy in their eyes. Keith’s throat tightened as Blue shut down and Keith made his way out of the lion, without Lance. Keith looked at the other paladins, devastation on his face. The others froze, not knowing what to make of the sight of Keith sobbing. They watched as Keith’s knees hit the floor of the hanger and his fists hit the floor. He let out enraged yells after a sad trills after defeated chirps. The team found themselves surrounding the young man, crying out their frustration together

After spending some time together, the four paladins made their way to the main deck for a debrief. As the four walked into the room they watched as the Alteans’ expressions fell. Coran put his head into his hands and Allura, while having a sad look on her face, also had a look of _I told you so_ that immediately set Keith off.

“Maybe if you’d have been proactive in helping up we would have Lance back!” Keith snaps at Allura, watching as Allura flinched, guilt wavering in her eyes.

“I told you the plan was risky. We’ve already gone through a wormhole so it's going to take a while to catch back up to the ship holding Lance, and by that time he may not even be on that ship anymore. The chances of them keeping Lance on that ship is very low.”

“Which is why we needed to get him now!” Keith retaliated fiercely.

“I know that, but-”

“If you knew then you could have helped us prevent this in the first place!”

“Voltron was-”

“GUYS! I have a video feed from the ship!” Pidge intervened excitedly. “Now we’ll know whether or not they are transferring Lance onto Zarkon’s ship during the meet up!”

The feed was immediately pulled up onto the large projector screen. The video was fuzzy for a second before the screen cleared and they were suddenly in an open area, sand and rock covered the place. Shiro’s feathers fluffed up significantly, almost hitting Keith in the process.

“That’s the arena,” Shiro mumbled.

The other paladins gulped. The camera zoomed in to a wooden post in the middle, which Lance was being tied to. The paladins watched as Lance was forced onto his knees, facing the post. Lance’s torn shirt was cut off of his back and Lotor was handed what looked like some sort of whip. It was lined with crystals and had multiple tails, all ending in some sort of rock formation. The camera didn’t have sound, but it looked like Lotor was making some sort of speech to the Galrans inside the stands. Lotor stopped speaking and turned to face Lance once again. He seemed to notice something as a smirk grew in his face and he glanced directly at the camera before leaning down to Lance. Whatever he said to Lance caused him to look directly into the camera feed Pidge had hacked into. He started to mouth something to the paladins, but he was too far from the screen and Lotor had moved closer to Lance, visually startling him. Lotor bent down and released the belt on his broken left wing, letting it flop onto the ground before moving onto the right wing. 

Lance took this opportunity to fight back, only managing in nailing Lotor in the face. Instead of freezing up Lance continued to fight, landing a couple of blows on to an increasingly more angry Lotor. The residents of the castle ship practically begged for Lance to stop, knowing it was going to make his situation worse. Finally, it looked like Lotor was sick of it and grabbed Lance by his functioning right wing. Lance tried to free himself, not managing anything. Lotor once again looked at the camera before letting go of Lance’s wing and backing away so he wouldn’t get hit. Lotor moves out of sight of the camera and comes back with a small object. He raises it in the air for the other galra to see and the paladins watched the crowd go wild. Pidge gasped.

“That’s a dagger.”

Shiro couldn’t take it anymore. He turned to the other paladins, “Keith, take Hunk and Pidge and leave the room please.”

Keith nodded and dragged a protesting Hunk and Pidge out of the room. Shiro turned back to the screen, watching as Lotor grabbed ahold of Lance’s right wing yet again. Lotor pulled the wing taunt, like he was trying to pull it out of its socket before motioning to someone off to the side. A large galran male grabbed Lance’s wing, keeping it still as Lotor bent down to Lance’s back. The others still in the room were guarded from the view of Lance’s back, but they were not saved from the image of Lance. Lance threw his head back, thrashing as he screamed. Shiro had no clue what was going on until he watched Lotor pull back and give a gesture to the galran next to him. Shiro’s world slowed as he watched Lance’s wing be torn from his back. Blood and bone are visible. Shiro turns form the Alteans, who are frozen in fear and falls to his knees. A puddle of vomit soaks the edges of his pants and he can’t help but look back at the screen, watching as Lotor saws through Lance’s left wing bone and tearing it off in the same fashion they had with the right wing. Shiro felt dizzy, his brain throwing him back into his days in the arena, but imagining himself in Lance’s position. Having his own wings ripped out.

Shiro watched distantly as the crystal whip was picked up and brought back down on Lance’s back harshly, watching Lance fall unconscious and the crowd roar. Shiro could hear them: the crowd. He could hear the cheers and the whistles of excitement. Finally, the video feed was cut off and Coran was in front of Shiro, trying to get his attention, but all Shiro could think about was Lance. 

And how his omega just lost his wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My SON!!! :(
> 
> ...2,416 words...


	7. Obedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: abuse, forced submission/BDSM-like elements, nudity
> 
> Word count: 1,404

A week had passed since Lance had lost his wings. The days flew by in a haze. Not a word or noise came from the blue paladin. Today was the day he would officially meet Zarkon. Lotor led Lance into a large, empty conference room and he set down a tablet. Lotor reached into the case he had brought to the room and connected it to Lance’s collar. He tied it around one of the metal legs of the table and gave Lance a stern look.

Obediently, Lance sat on his knees, his head bowed and trembling slightly as Lotor wrapped his old wing belts against his thighs, keeping him from getting up. The room was dimly lit and Lance could hear footsteps approach the doors they had just entered through. The door slid open and he heard a couple of people stop their conversations. He could feel their eyes on him, looking at him up and down: scrutinizing, judging. He curled further in on himself, shivers wracking his naked form. He had never felt more exposed than he did now; more vulnerable than he did now. 

The room slowly filled the Galra’s top generals and finally, the door slid open one more time, revealing the man of the hour himself: Zarkon. The people at the table stand and salute their emperor and Lotor bows. Lance catches himself looking and quickly looks back down at the floor. Heavy footsteps approach the paladin and stop right in front of him. The tips of black boots are seen at the very top of Lance’s vision and a rough hand grabs his chin and forces him to look upward. He goes to move the hand himself, forgetting his arms are restrained behind himself.

“So this is one of the famed _Paladins_ of Voltron?” Zarkon spat.

“This is the paladin of the Blue Lion, father,” He could feel Lotor’s hand touch his head, fingers in Lance’s hair, “and I have trained him to be my pet.”

“Hmm,” Zarkon’s eyes squinted. A stone sunk in Lance’s stomach as the grip on his chin got harder, nails digging into his skin until he could feel blood begin to rise up at the puncture marks. A whimper leaves his raw throat and as Lotor tightens his grip on Lance’s hair, Zarkon’s hand lifts off Lance’s face and comes back down in one swift motion. He could taste blood in his mouth where he had more than likely bitten his cheek or busted his lip. Lotor takes his foot and pushes Lance on his face, revealing the gruesome scars covering his back. 

Chuckles run through the room and conversations start in a murmur. Lance watches as Zarkon merely raises his hand and the conversations stop. Zarkon simply stares at Lance and turns. He walks to the head of the table. Lotor leans down and smirks.

“You’re going to move yourself underneath the table and serve as my footstool for the rest of this meeting, understood pet?”

Lance didn’t have time to reply as he was dragged by his hair under the table and Lotor’s feet were placed onto him. The omega in Lance might have finally been calmed by the sense of superiority Lotor gives off and the submission forced upon them, but Lance himself was completely unhappy. Lance dozed through the majority of the meeting, but Lotor must have noticed and used the heel of his boot and kicked Lance’s back before resetting his feet to put more pressure on Lance’s body. 

The meeting lasted hours and Lance’s body ached. The trembling wasn’t just from the cold anymore, rather from the physical strain on his muscles while in this position. Chairs began to move and conversations started back up. Lotor’s feet moved off of Lance’s back, but Lance knew better than to move. Lotor unties Lance’s leash and yanks him from under the table using it. Lance writhed, trying to breathe as the collar choked him. Lotor dropped the leash and Lance coughed weakly, trying to take in air. Laughter could be heard in the room, clearly directed at the paladin at their feet. Zarkon’s heavy footsteps came back over to Lance and Lotor. 

“I want him to fight in the arena as well. Maybe Haggar can fix him so he’ll actually last like the Champion.” Zarkon states.

All Lotor seems to do is grunt before bowing to his father again as Zarkon takes his leave. He picks up the leash again and tugs on it gently. Lance uses his abdominal muscles to pull himself up, giving Lotor access to his thigh straps. Lotor unties him and pulls him up by his armpit. Silently, the two make their way back to Lotor’s bedroom and Lotor moves Lance and pushes him to sit on the bed. The belt around Lance’s wrists are untied and his collar is taken off. The deep gouges from the shock collar are shockingly white and stick out like a sore thumb. Lance can’t even begin to imagine what his back looks like. Lance rubs his wrists and looks up as Lotor sets a black and purple silk robe on his lap. 

“Put this on.”

Lance doesn’t hesitate to move his shaky limbs and try slipping the robe on without standing up from the bed. Lotor grabs Lance’s arms gently and pulls him off the bed. The robe falls the middle of Lance’s shins and Lotor gently picks Lance up and maneuvers him. Lance gasps quietly, but doesn’t move as Lotor sets Lance onto the bed. Lance sinks into the bed, the robe falling open onto the bed, exposing him to the man above him. The omega inside of him wants to submit. It wants Lance to give himself to the man in front of him. Lance tenses and holds his breath, watching Lotor carefully, ready to lash out at any moment.

Lotor simply walks to the other side of the bed and sits, pulling the tablet from the meeting from his case and pulling up some sort of document file. Lotor moved so he sat up at the headboard and moved one hand into Lance’s hair. Lance moves to pull himself away, but stops. Lotor’s hand moves in a slow and gentle manner through Lance’s hair. A shiver makes its way up Lance’s spine and he rubs his head against Lotor’s head. Lotor’s hand tenses and Lance flinches. Lance looks up and sees Lotor’s look of shock. Lance hesitates, gulping softly, before cooing at Lotor and rubbing his head against the affectionate hand again. 

Lotor looks confused before humming and resting his hand on Lance’s head once more. Lance could feel his omega coming to the surface, wanting more. Lance let his omegan instincts take control. His mind clears of all thoughts except for the comfort coming from the galran man next to him. His omega seems to believe Lotor could be alpha enough for him. Lance continues to let his omegan instincts take control. His mind too tired to fight it if all that's going to happen is physical affection, something he’s been craving since he was locked in the isolation box. Lance doesn’t even mind how exposed his body is at this point. He turns to face Lotor and nuzzles the affectionate hand cooing and chirping over and over again. Lance knew he should have been ashamed of himself for accepting affection from this person, but he just couldn’t help himself. Lotor moves his hand out of Lance’s hair and Lance practically whimpers. Lotor moves to face Lance directly.

“The other paladins plan on coming to get you within the week. Before that time you will end up fighting in the arena a few times and will have two sessions with Haggar. This begins tomorrow. When the paladins come for you, I will turn a blind eye as there is no point in keeping you when we no longer have the Blue Lion,” Lotor states.

Lance smiles at the thought of his teammates coming to get him. 

“Now, information always comes with a price,” Lotor’s expression turns into a stomach curling smirk. Lotor sets down his tablet and turns to look at Lance once more. Lance shivers as a hand places itself on his waist, gradually moving to his hip and placing pressure on Lance’s hipbone. Lance looks up and Lotor, wide-eyed. Lotor smiles, showing off his white teeth.

“And I already know my price.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author-chan has had a rough couple of weeks, thus chapter got super delayed. Author-chan got kicked out of their home and their doggo died. Now, due to the Coronavirus, I can't go back to that house to see how my other doggo is fairing because some people in my family are more susceptible to this stupid disease (including myself) and I just got back from traveling.


	8. Interlude: Some Things to Ponder

_They play the game, and they play it well, but who are “they” and what are they playing? Are there pawns, strategies, or sacrifices? Who is fake, and who is real? Who are the winners, who are the losers?_

_But is anyone truly a winner in the game of war?_


	9. Companions and Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy. Sorry for the wait. Had to deal with a living sitch and some financial stuff. 
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy. 1,500 ish words

Lance sighed and sat up in the tub, sick of thinking about the past three weeks. Water sloshed over the sides and onto the marble tiling of the bathroom floor. Lance rubbed his hip gently, careful not to but too much pressure on his new brand. A knock on the door signalled Lotor’s arrival. Lance grunted in answer and the door swished open. A cold breeze caressed Lance’s back and shivers ran down his body. Lotor motioned for Lance to stand and he obeyed, moving to sit himself on the edge of the tub. Lotor leaned down and gently pressed a cold cloth onto the brand. Lance hissed quietly and Lotor answered with a simple apology. 

“Sorry. They were watching.” 

Lance shook his head, “You can’t help what you can’t control. Thankfully the bathroom has a barrier that forbids magic use.”

Lotor groaned. “This is the only place I get privacy. It’s embarrassing.”

Lance snorted and chuckled, “You’re one to talk about humiliation.”

Lotor rolled his eyes, “Drama queen.”

Lance smacked Lotor’s shoulder, getting him wet.

Lotor gasped and looked at Lance in shock, who was laughing loudly. Lotor’s expression turned sinister and Lance paused. With a very unmanly squeal, Lance was pushed back into the bath, onto his butt. Lotor tries to hold back a laugh, but fails when Lance stares at Lotor in such a pitiful manner. 

“Oh you think that's funny huh tough guy?” Lance replies.

Suddenly, Lotor felt ten times heavier in his official clothing. Water dripped over the edge of the tub, making a mess of the floor. Lotor turned to Lance, who was snickering. Lance sat up in the bathtub and moved towards Lotor. Lance began removing Lotor’s heavy overcoat, his face bright red and refusing to meet Lotor’s eyes. 

“No point in chaining yourself down with thirty pounds of clothing.”

Lotor smiled gently and stripped out of the rest of his clothing with Lance’s help. He leaned against the back wall, his legs outside of the tub and sticking out above the floor. The tub itself was big enough for two people, but Lance couldn’t help but feel a bit crowded. Lance peaked over to Lotor and noticed a large tribal-like tattoo scaling from the left side of his chest up to his shoulder, just barely licking the side of his neck. Lotor noticed Lance staring and turned around, revealing the same Galran brand on his back. However, swirls of color and tentacles of black decorated his back in a beautiful clash of rebellion. A colorful lion sat there, around the brand of the Galran Empire. 

“It shows my true loyalties.”

Lance couldn’t help himself as he reached out to touch the lion, fingers tracing every jump and swirl. Lotor shivered, turned slightly, and grabbed Lance’s hand, taking it off his back. Lotor turned back around to face Lance and kissed each individual finger on the hand he held. Lance blushed and smiled shyly, his omega absolutely preening at the attention. Lance struggled to choke down the trill coming from his throat. Right before Lotor could kiss Lance’s pinkie, Lance slipped his hand out of Lotor’s grabbed his face in his hands, snickering when he squished Lotor’s cheeks. Lance removed his hand after a second and splashed Lotor with the bathwater. Lance stood up and ran to the door of the bathroom. His back hit the door and he watched Lotor stalk closer to him. Lotor picked Lance up and, instead of throwing him back into the bathtub, sat him on the countertop and wrapped him in a soft towel that had been warming up on what looked to be the equivalent of a small alien radiator and hugged him tightly.

“Don’t worry Little Blue, we’ll get you out of here.”

Lance nuzzled his face into Lotor’s chest and chirped.

Lance couldn’t help but get lost in thought as Lotor led him back into the bedroom. While it was obvious his feelings for the man had changed, he couldn’t help but feel dread whenever he stepped foot in any room that contained Lance. Something felt off about this whole scenario. Lance knew his omega was more than willing to take a lot of shit just to get attention, what could he say, he was a needy little shit, but this was too much. He’d been humiliated, branded and spat on by the rest of the galra. Lotor had too, but it was apparently all for show. Lance, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was actually wrong with Lotor. Like there was something darker in his eyes, hiding in the recesses of his mind and waiting to strike like a camouflaged viper. As much as Lance hoped he had an ally in these circumstances, he knew he could only rely on himself.

While Lance was lost in thought, Lotor had gathered clothing and some other, seemingly random bottles and placed them on the bed right next to the tan male. Lance finally notices the items when Lotor snaps his fingers in front of Lance to get his attention. Lance jumps, startled by the noise before looking at Lotor quizzically. 

“We have an important meeting to go to,” Lotor states simply. 

Lance opens his mouth to ask a question, but instead watches as Lotor begins to unfold and put several layers of clothing together. What looks to be something like a very short black kimono with dark purple accents gets placed on his shoulders. Lance begins to dress himself until Lotor stops him. Lotor pulls out a purple collar and attaches it to Lance’s neck before attaching some sort of metal pole to the back. Lotor pushes the pole down, forcing lance into a bowing position. Lance tries to push himself up as he feels Lotor let go, but finds himself stuck in that position with little give. Lance manages to turn his head and look upward, to find a thick, stiff rope now anchored to the ceiling, giving him little leeway to move. Lotor pulls Lance’s legs back towards the bed, resting his feet on the edge. The only thing holding Lance in place was his neck, choking him. Lotor sets a stool underneath Lance’s stomach and lowers the rope slightly, forcing Lance to use his abdomen muscles to hold himself up. Lance could feel the material of the robe move off of his leg. Lotor lifted Lance’s legs off the bed and pulled a black bodysuit, much like the pod suits, up Lance’s legs. Lotor dropped Lance’s legs once the pants were on and pulled some sort of strap hanging from them over Lance’s heels, releasing the elastic onto the arches of Lance’s feet. 

Lotor maneuvered Lance so he was sitting on the stool, his neck bowed and aching. Pain radiates down his spine and he lets out an involuntary whine. While his omega seemed hesitantly content with staying submissive, Lance just couldn’t. Shoes were forced onto his feet, tied in intricate knots up his leg. Lance manages to turn his head enough to catch the reflection of himself in one of the windows. He looked amazing, stunning even, but exposed and shameful. While Lance would normally be willing to wear something like this, it would be of his own volition and in the privacy of his room, where his omega side could feel free to express itself and he wouldn’t have to worry about being humiliated. 

The rope was untied and the pole was detached, but the collar stayed. Lotor cleared his throat, startling Lance slightly, before he stood and connected a leash to the collar. The chair was kicked from underneath him and his knees hit the floor. The leash was pulled and a choked yelp managed to escape Lance. Before he was able to truly catch his breath, he was being dragged out the door and to Lotor’s next conference meeting. 

Once there, the usual custom meet-and-greet-and-grope came to pass. The other galra, intrigued by the “pet paladin” as they’d called him, were always allowed to touch. Lotor either didn’t have the need or want to stop them and Lance wasn’t sure which one he actually believed more. While the meeting seemed to be a standard “these allies need supplies” and “we’ve lost this territory” the meeting was abruptly interrupted as some druids walked in, followed by Haggar herself. She wasted no time making her way to Lance, using her magic to force him into a fully submissive, and rather crude position with his hips raised above his head, but still resting on his knees. 

“Voltron has somehow gained intel of our location.”

The meeting room erupts into growls and anger, most of which is directed straight to the paladin on the floor.

“However, I’ve come up with a plan,” Haggar announces before holding up what looks like a piercing gun. A long, open-tipped and sharp needle juts out from one end, and a slightly red glow comes from a tube on the other side. Haggar moves quickly, grabbing Lance by the arm and jabbing the needle into his spinal cord at the base of his neck. Lance couldn’t hold back a pained scream as his body began to feel as though it was being consumed by fire. A vicious growl immediately makes its way from his lips and he starts to thrash. His brain is fuzzy and he isn’t sure how long it takes, but after fighting off multiple hands, his vision blackens and he sees nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaaaaaay! I'm actually writing the next chapter as this is posted so yay. I'm really excited as to where this is starting to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Ages will also follow canon for the most part. Unsure if ages are 100% accurate.  
> Shiro is 25 and an alpha  
> Keith is 19 and an alpha  
> Lance is 18 and an omega  
> Hunk is 18 and a beta  
> Pidge is 15 and unlabeled in A/B/O dynamics
> 
> Leave comments below for suggestions or what you think will happen. 
> 
> Bye lovelies. <3


End file.
